Re-Awakening: I Ascend with a Legendary class

They leapt upward, landing smoothly on Pymon’s massive back. The feathers beneath their feet were cool, polished, and shimmered faintly with black-blue prismatic sheen, like starlight trapped under obsidian glass. The pressure around them lifted—Pymon’s natural domain, creating a stable surface for passengers.

The Roclord didn’t wait.

His wings unfolded across the palace roof like two eternal night curtains.

One beat—

BOOM.

They vanished into the sky, tearing through layers of space.

Wind didn’t touch them.

Sound didn’t reach them.

The world blurred into streaks of silver and black as Pymon flew with casual speed no aircraft could match.

Lily steadied herself beside Almond. “…Did John send you already?”

Pymon’s voice rumbled directly into their bones. “Yes. He found him.”

Almond’s fingers tightened slightly on the feather ridge. “Where?”

“Baikran Academy. It’s headed by a Grim Emperor.” Pymon’s tone changed. “Of course, he is weaker than me.”

Pymon said nothing for a moment, then added, “John Wicked respects your request. Roseramon is yours. But Baikran Academy has rules.”

“What rules?” Lily asked.

“You cannot simply enter and take someone,” Pymon replied. “Baikran agreed to release Roseramon—if you complete his challenge.”

Lily scoffed. “Figures.”

Almond’s tone remained steady. “What challenge?”

“Don’t know,” Pymon said. “But as long as you complete it, Roseramon will be handed over.”

Lily nodded with a smile. “Guess we’ll be able to test our training.”

“Yep.”

A jagged rift opened ahead, revealing a floating fortress of rotating steel petals and storm-lit towers.

Baikran Academy.

Pymon descended toward the floating fortress of Headmaster.

Massive steel petals rotated around its core like celestial gears, each one holding its own small world. The towers rising between them crackled with storm pillars and gravity vortices, all under tight control. The air itself was saturated with authority—an unspoken reminder of who ruled this place.

Pymon landed on an obsidian platform suspended mid-air.

The instant his talons touched down, dozens of formation rings lit up—not in aggression, but in acknowledgment.

Respect.

Only then did a presence appear.

Grim Emperor Baikran stepped out from the spiral gate behind him, his tall frame wrapped in a long coat of black metallic threads woven with silver runes. His hair, pure mercury in color, floated gently despite the still air.

His pale eyes with vertical-slit pupils glanced at Almond and Lily only once, yet it felt like he saw everything about them.

The pressure that washed over them wasn’t intentional. It was a reaction born out of Almond and Lily using their Eyes of Truth on him.

“You must be John Wicked’s students.”

His voice was deep, calm, and absolute—

a sound that felt like it carried the weight of oceans.

“Yes,” Almond replied.

Lily bowed politely, though not fearfully. “We are here to retrieve Devil Roseramon.”

Baikran’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“I see.”

Pymon’s voice rumbled behind them. “They have a personal reason.”

Baikran nodded once.

“A reason strong enough that John Wicked himself requested my cooperation.”

He raised a hand.

Five massive iron gates manifested in a wide arc behind him, towering high enough to blot out the storm-lit sky. Each gate burned with different energy patterns—eldritch, elemental, temporal, abyssal, primal.

Baikran spoke again.

“By the authority of Baikran Academy, no outsider may claim a student without proving themselves worthy. Especially those hunted for crimes, for such students are protected from external tampering, no matter how insignificant they may be.”

“But we can take him, right?” Almond asked.

“What do we have to do?” Lily added.

“Pass the trial I give you, and I will release Roseramon without hesitation.”

Almond’s voice was calm. “What is the trial?”

The gates cracked.

“Defeat the five monsters behind these five gates.”

Baikran stepped aside.

Lily stretched her shoulders, chakrams humming faintly. “Only five?”

Baikran’s gaze flickered. “For Grim Students, they are equivalent to facing five storms of calamity.”

“That’s fine.” Almond drew his sword slowly, severing the surrounding air pressure just enough to breathe normally. “Open them.”

Baikran nodded.

The first gate split open with a thunderous roar.

A four-horned thunder bull stomped out, lightning bursting from its hooves and scorching the arena. The sheer aura alone bent the space around it.

A four-horned thunder bull stepped out, its body carved from storm-forged muscle and lightning threads. Each breath it exhaled shook the arena.

Its gaze locked onto Almond.

He raised his sword.

“I’ll take this one,” he said.

Lily folded her arms and stepped back.

Pymon watched silently.

Baikran nodded. “Begin.”

The bull roared, lightning erupting like a tidal wave.

But Almond didn’t move.

He lifted his blade slightly, no stance, no flourish.

Grim-Fated Cut — Severance of Balance and Chaos.

The bull’s charge collapsed mid-run. Thunder froze in the air. Its momentum was severed from existence itself.

Almond walked past it.

A thin line split across the monster’s body.

A heartbeat later, it fell apart cleanly.

Baikran’s eyes narrowed.

“…Impressive.”

Almond sheathed his sword. “Next.”

The second gate opened, releasing a serpent forged from broken mirrors, its length endless, its body reflecting realities that didn’t exist. Its presence distorted the surroundings into jagged hallways of illusion.

Lily stepped forward.

“This one is mine.”

Baikran nodded.

The serpent lunged, splintering itself into thousands of reflections—every one as real as the original.

Lily didn’t blink.

She moved once.

Her body slipped into a moment three seconds ahead.

The arena lagged behind her.

Time bent around her shadow.

A single chakram cut through the one reality the serpent could not hide.

A fracturing sound echoed.

All illusions shattered.

The serpent split cleanly and collapsed into glittering dust.

Lily returned her chakram with a flick.

“Next.”

The third gate opened, releasing a wind predator, a creature made of slicing gales and spiraling blades, no body, no core, only a storm hungry for flesh.

Almond walked forward again.

His sword traced a faint line in the air.

The predator attacked as thousands of blades rushed forward in a whirlwind.

Almond severed its center of mass and then its momentum.

The entire storm collapsed as if sliced from the inside, falling like torn cloth.

Almond glanced back.

“Next.”

The fourth gate shattered open, revealing a molten obsidian giant, its body dripping magma that scorched the ground. Its roar shook the surrounding platforms.

Lily stepped forward casually.

The giant swung a flaming fist the size of a house.

Lily didn’t dodge.

Her chakram cut through time itself and corroded it with shadow.

The fist aged hundreds of years, instantly turning brittle, exposing its weakness, and shattering like old stone.

Lily stepped past the crumbling limb and sliced its core with one motion.

The titan fell like a mountain losing its foundation.

“Next.”

The fifth and final gate opened slowly, the temperature dropping even though no cold existed.

A shadow humanoid emerged—flickering between existence and non-existence. Its body stitched from living darkness and bone, each movement silent, each step bypassing physical laws.

Both Almond and Lily remained still.

“The last one.”

Almond’s eyes narrowed.

He vanished.

One breath.

The shadow humanoid appeared behind him, claws passing through Almond’s spine—

But Almond had severed its existence vector.

The creature suddenly existed entirely in front of him.

And his blade cut through the point where it was forced to manifest.

A clean, merciless arc.

The creature dissolved into static and vanished.

Almond lowered his sword.

“Done.”

“Now, let’s bring out that Devil Roseramon.”